Wind and snow whirled around the blurry figures. Moving clockwise through the air, it gradually formed countless lines. It appeared like the woolen balls woven in private residences or like the silk from the spring silkworms in Jiangnan. It formed into a ball and completely enveloped the figures caught in danger within it.
This white snowball was not still. On the contrary, it moved toward Taiji Palace at an astonishing speed. No one knew what kind of thoughts the aces inside used to ensure that the quickly spinning strands of snow were not sliced apart into scattered snow by the wind.
When Thirteenth Wang and Haitang swept out of Taiji Palace, they had opened two doors. Taiji Palace was like a giant beast crafted from shadow with its mouth wide open, preparing to swallow the large and round snowball into its pitch black abdomen.
However, the hall doors were not completely open. The mouth was not open wide enough. When the snowball reached the front doors of Taiji Palace, its size was larger than the palace doors. The snowball crashed at a high speed against the palace doors. Strangely, it did not make any noise. The complex carvings on the wooden door were instantly destroyed by the killing and battle intent contained within the snowball. A number of deep scars appeared in the wood before it scattered with the wind.
Tens of thousands of years of time could perhaps destroy everything so silently. Yet, this object formed of hazy strands of snow also produced such a powerful effect. The once weak snowflakes had become like countless sharp knives as they spun at a high speed and cut through everything in their way.
Such terrifying effects was naturally because of the Great Grandmaster in that space. He was currently exhibiting the apex of his realm.
The snowball spun through the air, flew through the long imperial pathway, and crashed into the imperial platform. With another boom, the snowball exploded. Snowflakes flew like arrows in all directions, making Taiji Palace shake weakly. There was no sign of the main beam breaking, but the beautiful decorations within the magnificent hall were all shattered into rubble.
A number of shadows moved forward. Thirteenth Wang and Haitang flew decrepitly into the rubble with fresh blood pouring out of them. Thirteenth Wang's arm had long become strands of flesh and blood twisted together. All its Meridians were broken.
The Shadow, who had performed the last attack, laid in white clothing in front of the imperial platform. Everything below his head was covered in blood. He did not move at all. It was impossible to tell if he was alive or dead. The sword remained weakly in his hand with a stain of blood remaining on the tip of it.
In the end, this sword did not manage to slice open the artery at the juncture of the Emperor's thigh. Under these circumstances, the Shadow's fatal strike had clearly pierced into the Emperor's flesh. But, the tip of the sword remained unmoving and still as they moved into the hall and throughout all the shaking and chaos until it was finally shaken out of the Emperor's body. All the work was to no avail.
During this time, the Emperor used his grand zhenqi cultivation and Tyrannical power released through the Way of the Emperor to suppress everyone within an integrated realm. Within this territory, the Emperor's thoughts were the standard for everything. No one was able to oppose it.
The bright yellow figure appeared particularly dazzling in front of the chaotic imperial platform. The Emperor still stood straight. He did not even glance at the destroyed dragon chair behind him. His face was pale. The hands outside his sleeves trembled slightly. Although injured, he was still unsurpassed and undefeated.
Lying in front of the imperial platform like a dead fish, the Shadow suddenly moved. He floated up. His white clothes fluttered in the wind as blood dripped from the corner of his lip. With extreme ruthlessness, he pierced toward the Emperor's throat.
The strike missed, as was expected. Pale-faced, the Shadow spat out a single word mixed with blood and saliva, "Retreat!"
When he made his final attack, he was already retreating backward quickly. Since he wasn't able to kill the Emperor the first time, he would no longer have an opportunity this day. Although the Shadow wanted to avenge Chen Pingping, who had been sentenced to death by a thousand cuts, in the end, he was an assassin. Of the four people who entered the Palace to carry out the assassination, he had the most ruthless gaze and calmest state of mind. Since the first attack failed, naturally, he would retreat. He was just worried that the two heavily injured young aces would forget themselves and continue to battle with the Emperor, which was why he had shouted out loud.
Before the sound of the word had fallen, three figures shot out of the wretched Taiji Palace and charged outward. The least injured, Haitang Duoduo, brought up the rear. Shaking open her flowery coat, it dissolved into a flowery shadow and released inside the darkness of the hall.
At the moment the petals disappeared, three superior ninth-level aces also disappeared from within Taiji Palace. The Emperor continued to stand silently on the imperial platform. Surprisingly, he did not give chase. After the powerful attack earlier, the three warriors had all suffered injuries and would not be able to retaliate. Escaping the hall was the tail end of a powerful attack. If the Emperor attacked now, presumably, he would be able to easily kill the three of them.
The Emperor did not move. He just silently lowered his head and spread open his hands. He felt cold pain coming from his neck. He looked at the split flesh on his chest. The blood stain was seeping out of the bright yellow dragon robe, as well as the bloody hole at the juncture of his thigh.
Three parts of his body sent clear messages of pain to his brain, making this powerful Emperor slightly startled. How long had it been since he had been injured? Three years ago on Dong Mountain, when he had faced Ku He and Sigu Jian, the Emperor had only used the grand zhenqi he had been accumulating for a lifetime and his supreme mental strength. Yet, now, he had been injured when faced with just a few young people.
The Emperor stretched out his left hand and touched it to his chest. He looked at the blood on his white hand and furrowed his brows slightly. It was as if he felt an overwhelming tiredness. For the first time, he wondered to himself if he was truly getting old.
A chilling coldness flashed through his eyes. He knew the four people who had attacked very well. There was no need to say much about An Zhi. For him to be able to force out an external sword qi, his talent and hard work were evident. The Shadow had always followed that old dog but had always hidden his existence within the space the Emperor existed in. The foremost assassin in the world was indeed incredible.
As for Ku He and Sigu Jian's last disciples, the Emperor was also no stranger to them. Although he had never met Haitang Duoduo, he knew this saint girl of Northern Qi very well and of her relationship with Fan Xian. In the past, the Emperor had thought of having Fan Xian marry this woman. As for Thirteenth Wang… The Emperor remembered that scene on Dong Mountain clearly and had a great appreciation for it.
Other than the Shadow, such talented young people would, without a doubt, be the most incredible figures in this world in the future. Today, they had attacked the Emperor together. Although they failed, they failed with such vigor that the Emperor could not help but feel admiration and have no desire to kill them.
The Emperor slowly walked out of the silent Taiji Palace. Step by step, he slowly put in order the Tyrannical zhenqi in his body that was beginning to show signs of instability. With a cold expression and unusually cold eyes, he quietly looked at the palace gates that Fan Xian and the other had already successfully opened.
He didn't care about how Fan Xian and them had been able to open the palace doors under the eyes of the Imperial Army and guards. He wasn't worried that these thorns in his side, these enemies that reminded him of his age through youth and pride, would disappear into the sea of people.
"Kill them all," the Emperor ordered calmly as if narrating a household matter. Confidently and coldly, he ordered the deaths of the young warriors who escaped out of the Palace. He then accepted a brand new and clean dragon robe from the hands of Eunuch Yao, who had just arrived at the entrance of the hall, and began to change his clothes.
…
…
The Shadow retreated the fastest. He snatched up Fan Xian, who was in a half-conscious state, from the snowy ground. With a muffled grunt, he forced down the mouthful of fresh blood that welled inside his body. Like a word, he floated slyly in the direction of the palace gates. Behind him, Thirteenth Wang followed in a strange posture while Haitang Duoduo, who had already taken off her flowery coat and was just wearing an unlined purple robe, brought up the rear with a calm expression.
All four of them had suffered various degrees of injury. Surmounting the palace walls had become a difficult mission, so they could only charge toward the palace gates. Everyone knew that Taiji Palace faced the front gates of the Royal Palace. It was the most strictly guarded place within the entire Palace, yet the Shadow charged forward coldly without a glimmer of hesitation. This was not because of Fan Xian's instruction. Instead, it was because he was a man of Dongyi. He knew what the Sword Hut had the most of.
The trump card Northern Qi played earlier was the city guarding crossbow in the corner of the Royal Palace. When that muffled thud rang out, only then did the Imperial Army in the Palace finally realize that there were assassins in the Royal Palace. However, the life and death battle outside Taiji Palace happened too quickly and ended too quickly. When the figure of the four warriors charged toward the palace gates, part of the aces of the Imperial Army were gathered at the corner tower of the Royal Palace while the ones left by the palace gate barely had the time to get into formation, like a large net.
This net had just formed when it was torn apart by sword light from the heavens. Four streaks of harsh sword light shooting into the sky came from nowhere and threw the Imperial Army by the palace gates into chaos with limbs flying through the air, blood spraying wildly, and tragic cries of surprise.
Of the thirteen disciples of Dongyi's Sword Hut, other than the ones Fan Xian sent to Jiangnan to protect Su Wenmao and Xia Qifei and the ones left in Dongyi to steady the military, four ninth-level swordsmen had come.
No one knew how these ninth-level swordsmen entered the Royal Palace, but they knew that the disciples of the Sword Hut astounded the world with their killing intent. Given their ninth-level realm, no one in the world, other than the Sixth Bureau that the Shadow controlled, could oppose their assassinations.
In an instant, the slow reacting Imperial Army was left in chaos as the heavy palace gates were dragged open with a crack. Amidst the angry shouts of the Imperial Army generals and the guards on duty, the four disciples of the Sword Hut coldly took control of the long and deep passage of the palace gate and forcefully opened up a tiny space, protecting the snowy ground. The four people fleeing from the direction of Taiji Palace flashed through the gap of the palace gates like ghosts, charging toward the misty, cold, and expansive square in front of the Royal Palace.
Fan Xian had been struck by the Emperor's finger. His index finger was completely shattered. His body was being ravaged by that wave of powerful Tyrannical zhenqi. If not for the fact that his Meridians were unlike that of normal people and he cultivated zhenqi of the same quality and nature as the Qing Emperor, he would probably have exploded under that finger as weighty as Dong Mountain.
Even though he survived, he still felt as if countless wounds had opened up in his Meridians. Inside and outside of his body, it was as if there were countless red hot metal wires swimming through his body. His heart thudded. An impossible pain pierced into his mind. Human nature's self-preserving nature made him easily faint amidst such powerful pain.
However, Fan Xian could not faint. He knew he had not yet escaped the Royal Palace alive. His slightly blurry vision had already seen the distinct and ruthless sword intent from the disciples of the Sword Hut. He furrowed his brows with pain because he had not arranged for these disciples of the Sword Hut to come. He had not wanted to drag the Sword Hut into this mess.
The Shadow was a veteran official of the Overwatch Council. Haitang was his woman. Thirteenth Wang was his friend. The three people who entered the Palace for the assassination were all personally connected to Fan Xian. After all, this was a gentlemanly fight with the Emperor. The Emperor could tolerate Fan Xian asking these people for help and could guess that he would. If Fan Xian used the power of Dongyi or Northern Qi, the matter would probably become much more troublesome.
What was more troublesome now was the silence outside the palace. The snow-covered square outside the Royal Palace was as silent as a grave. It was as if there was no one there. When the four disciples of the Sword Hut dissolved into shadows and escorted the four of them to the snow-covered square outside the Royal Palace, it seemed that the entire world could hear their footsteps. Yet, they appeared very alone.
This death-like silence was too strange. Anyone would be able to tell that there was a problem. Although Fan Xian had not intended to use the disciples of the Sword Hut, his route out of the Palace was the same as the Shadow had chosen. It was also the front gates of the Royal Palace that no one would have expected. Another reason Fan Xian chose the front gates of the Royal Palace was because he had deduced that while he entered the Royal Palace to negotiate with the Emperor, the news of him ruthlessly killing He Zongwei should have already erupted in Jingdou. Those civil officials would certainly come to kowtow and cry their grievances. The stubborn Imperial Censors would kneel on the snowy ground and put endless pressure on the Emperor.
This point had been confirmed in Eunuch Yao's report last night. Thus, when Fan Xian and everyone escaped out of the main gate of the Royal Palace, they should have seen officials with faces full of sorrow and heard a clamor of discussion. The white snow should have been trodden into muck while the servants of each manor should have been hidden in a carriage in a distant alley. They, the escapees, should have been able to flee in the chaos. Fan Xian had even thought of how to steal each manor's carriage.
However, there was nothing, only a white hazy and clean ground. The only thing they could see were the footsteps they left on the snow and their faint shadows. The only thing they could hear was their heavy breathing.
Everyone realized something was strange. Behind them, the palace gates had slowly closed again. Unexpectedly, the imperial soldiers inside had not pursued them out. However, the Shadow continued to move forward with an icy expression. Although they knew there was something wrong and that this could only be a trap, what could they do other than charging over and out?
The square in front of the Royal Palace very large and expansive. During past military parades, it had once held 100,000 spectators. During the Jingdou rebellion three years ago, the Ye and Qin families had led armies to surround the Palace. Tens of thousands of soldiers had gathered there. However, only this group of people, who had bitterly killed their way out of the Royal Palace, could be seen on the layer of thick snow. They appeared very lonely and pitiful.
To the right and rear of this lonely group, a series of quiet miscellaneous sounds rang out. The fragmentary battles at the corner of the Royal Palaces seemed to have ended. The longest lasting spies and assassins Northern Qi had placed within the Qing Kingdom had probably been swept clean by the Imperial Army. However, two shadows fell down suddenly from the cinnabar red walls at the corner of the Royal Palace!
The walls of the palace were very high. The two shadows fell quickly. Just as they were about to fall to the ground and suffer a bone-crushing death, an unexpected cry exploded through the air. A curved knife appeared at the waist of one of the shadowy figures. He seemed to wave it mindlessly over the palace walls. In reality, they were slicing with great skill. With each fall of the knife, they left a deep mark on the newly repaired cinnabar red palace wall.
The person used a pair of curved knives and was very powerful. He was even able to maintain his form in mid-air. It was clear that the other person's cultivation was slightly inferior. He only used the sword in his hand to pierce through the chain at the hilt of his companion's knives.
In just the space of a few breaths, these two figures fell heavily off the palace walls. The tall and sturdy warrior did not suffer any injuries. He grabbed his companion. They ran toward the center of the snow-covered ground. Looking at the direction they headed, they seemed to be meeting up with Fan Xian's group.
These two were one of the few remaining ninth-level aces in Northern Qi. Among them, one was Master Ku He's last disciple, the foremost ace in the Northern Qi Royal Palace, Lang Tiao. The other was Friar He.
Fan Xian's group had already run into the hazy snow when they suddenly realized they had a few extra and mysterious companions. They could not help but be startled.
For the sake of cooperating with Fan Xian's plans, the Northern Qi Emperor had allowed his two most powerful warriors to secretly enter the Qing Kingdom. It could truly be said that he had put down blood capital. However, after Sir Lang Tiao first entered Jingdou, he was completely unable to exhibit his true powers. He only had the time to cooperate with the spies hidden inside the Palace and use the city guarding crossbow to send out that one attack. Then, he could only watch as the attack in front of Taiji Palace began and ended.
Nothing could compare to a hero caught in difficult circumstances. Lang Tiao, with a lifetime of vigorous cultivation, did not even make one swing at the Qing Emperor before he was forced to flee the Royal Palace by the Imperial Army. At his side, Friar He's foot had been injured.
"Stop running," Fan Xian, who had been carried by the Shadow all this time, said coldly as he watched Lang Tiao gradually approaching the point of convergence. His eyes narrowed slightly. He was very shocked, but there was also an absurd anger. Why did people always think they could cooperate in everything they wanted to happen? Regardless of whether it was the appearance of the disciples of the Sword Hut or Lang Tiao, they both made Fan Xian's heart cold. He had planned and plotted for so long, yet at this moment, he had suddenly lost the foundations. He could not help but feel a dismal coldness.
What made Fan Xian feel even colder was the silence in the square. A group of them were gathered in the center of the square. Not far in front of them were private residences. The crossroads to the right were even closer, but everyone knew that there were unnamed dangers waiting for them at these places.
Fan Xian lost once again to the Emperor, completely and utterly. The appearance of the disciples of the Sword Hut and the two people from Northern Qi took away his last life-saving excuse. He didn't know that the Emperor had already given the kill order in the Palace. He didn't know that his mental battle was not able to succeed in the end. A faint exhaustion flashed through his eyes.
Amidst this wind and snow, the Shadow silently stopped walking. Haitang wiped away the blood at the corner of her lips and walked to where Fan Xian sat in the snow with a slight smile. Crouching down, she tilted her head and said, "I said long ago that your wavering and desire to offend no one was a very childish thought."
"I just want fewer people to die. In the end, this is a personal matter." Fan Xian forced a smile with difficulty. Sitting in the snow, he felt the iciness beneath him and said, "Even acting completely shamelessly, tens of thousands would still come in worship. I cannot do it. Otherwise, how could things have ended up like this in the Palace today?"
Dragging his torn and bloody arm, Thirteenth Wang walked to his side and said in a hoarse voice, "At least you tried. Although you lost, you still did well."
Fan Xian spat a mouthful of blood onto the snow beside him and said with a sigh, "But I'm truly terrified of death." Although he said this, a rarely seen peace and happiness flashed through his eyes.
"Looks like you're not very happy about my arrival," Lang Tiao said calmly, coming to a stop in front of Fan Xian. "It's just that your private vengeance is also our private vengeance, so our coming has nothing to do with you. Of course, I have to admit that I just realized that killing has little to do with martial cultivation. In this matter, I appear quite useless."
Lang Tiao glanced at his disciple sister, Haitang Duoduo, and said to Fan Xian with furrowed brows, "If Duoduo had been willing to tell me your plan, things may not have ended this way."
"Ah, perhaps the ending had long been destined. One must trust in life. But, if you can carry me out in a moment, I won't say you're useless," Fan Xian said, giving him a wretched and toothy smile.
Just like this, this group of the world's best warriors and assassins began to chat casually in the center of this hazy and silent snow-covered square. It was as if no one wondered who would be able to escape once the Qing Kingdom's powerful and terrifying national machinery surrounded them.
The countless imperial soldiers on the palace walls became layers of black lines. With bows in hand, they stared coldly down at the assassins in the snow, ready to fire at any moment. Gong Dian stood in the center with narrowed eyes, looking at them in the snow. His heart felt heavy. He didn't know how Sir Fan junior could smile at such a time.
While Fan Xian and them were talking, the situation in the square in front of the Royal Palace had changed. Countless bows poked out of the seemingly normal private residences. The arrows reflecting the cold light were like dense and fatal bales of straw aimed at the group of people in the snow.
The thunderous roar of hooves gradually rang out from the crossroads closest to them. Over 2,000 armored riders sealed off that direction, not leaving any space to spare.
With thousands of arrows pointed at them, who could survive? How could human bodies stand against a charge by Iron Riders? Everything seemed to have reached an end. There were no more changes that could stop this from happening and delay the arrival of the god of death.
Fan Xian narrowed his eyes and looked at the formidable riders at the crossroads, especially at Ye Zhong personally leading the riders. He looked at the terrifyingly sharp arrows on the second level of the residences and the dozen straw-hat wearing, cold-hearted, and fanatical Ascetic Monks gradually coming closer from the residences. Finally, he could not help but let out a sigh.
Back then, it had been his plan. The Great Prince's purge of the Imperial Army had begun in those private residences while the Overwatch Council, along with cooperation from the Black Knights, had forcefully severed the rebel army troops along Zhengyang Gate and the crossroads. They had pinned Qin Heng to the outside of the Royal Palace and ended the Qin bloodline.
Now, the Emperor's plan was just like his from three years ago, blocking off any chance of survival. It was truly as if history was being repeated. Perhaps there was something called karma in the underworld.
Besieging the enemy and killing the reinforcements, luring out the enemies, and sweeping aside all those who dare to oppose him, these were methods the Emperor had long grown used to using. However, proceeded by the brilliant example of Dong Mountain, what does such a formation count for? With such well-used methods and the support of the Qing Kingdom's powerful strength, there was still no one who could break through the Emperor's calculations.
"There really is nothing new in the world," Fan Xian muttered indistinctly through a mouthful of blood with a scattered gaze. Then, his head tilted decisively and fainted in Haitang Duoduo's arms. He had fought with the Qing Emperor a number of times. At the very end, he had forced out sword qi from the tip of his finger but still could not defeat the Emperor's supreme zhenqi. Wretchedly knocked down by a finger, his true essence had been almost completely used up. It was already incredible for him to have endured until now before falling unconscious.
The footsteps around the square rang out slowly and steadily. The sound of hooves also did not slow. Countless Qing soldiers pressed closer to the square from all directions, gradually bringing the center of the square within shooting distance. The dozen Ascetic Monks in straw hats stood in front of the military and looked at these people coldly. Once the arrows failed to wipe out the assassins, it was time for the riders and Ascetic Monks to take the stage.
Other than Lang Tiao and the four warriors of the Sword Hut, there was no other unharmed person among them. Faced with such powerful martial force, everyone knew that it was impossible to escape. However, they had already entered the ninth-level. Other than Fan Xian, these people had long come to value life lightly. There was not a glimmer of fear on anyone's face.
Lang Tiao and the four warriors of the Sword Hut met each other's eyes and nodded, each knowing what they should do. Then, the foremost ace of the Northern Qi Royal Palace glanced tenderly back at Haitang Duoduo to see that there was no pain of farewell on her face. She just held Fan Xian quietly with a slight smile.
Lang Tiao also smiled. Looking at Fan Xian in Haitang's arms, he shook his head and sighed with admiration, "To fall unconsciously so decisively at such a time, how can one not admire him?"
…
…
The Emperor, having changed into a clean dragon robe, walked silently up the stone steps of the palace walls. The imperial soldiers he passed along the way all took a knee in a military salute. Not a single person dared to look directly at the bright yellow color. Eunuch Yao followed closely by the Emperor's side. He suddenly heard the Emperor ask in a deep voice, "Why is there still no movement?"
"Ah…" Eunuch Yao's heart jumped. He was unsure how to respond. He knew the Emperor hated Sir Fan junior right now, but he also knew that the Emperor's favor toward Sir Fan junior these years had come from his heart. Particularly, after the Crown Prince and Second Prince died, the Emperor's love for Sir Fan junior was known to the entire Palace. If he had ordered the firing earlier and if Sir Fan junior had died to the chaotically flying arrows, he didn't know how he would explain it to the Emperor.
The Emperor personally mounting the palace walls made Eunuch Yao feel even more frightened. If he only wanted to besiege and kill those assassins outside the Palace, the Emperor's set up was completely sufficient Why would he need to come personally? It was probably because there was still some reluctance in his heart.
"I want to personally see that traitor die in front of me." Perhaps the Emperor saw through what Eunuch Yao was thinking about. Coldly, he ordered, "Fire."
The words of an Emperor were his bond. With that cry, the arrows in the hands of the soldiers around the square flew out as the Emperor walked up the wide stone steps leading to the top of the palace walls. They flew densely and whistled through the air like locusts, hiding the sun and the sky as they headed toward an area nine feet in diameter in the snow-covered square.
If Fan Xian was uninjured at this time, perhaps he could have used the secret he had learned not long ago and rise straight up dozens of feet and dodge the dense rain of arrows. However, he had already fainted. No one else in the world could dodge such a rain of arrows.
In the instant before the Qing army fired, Lang Tiao let out a roar. Light glittered brightly in his eyes. He snatched up Fan Xian's body from Haitang's arms, single-handedly grabbed the chain between two curved knives, and wove the two curved knives into an impenetrable shield of knife light. Bravely and alone, he charged toward the closest Ascetic Monks.
The Qing Emperor's slow footsteps landed on the palace walls. His bright yellow dragon robe was intimidating. His hands behind him were unusually steady. There was not a single tremor. His eyes were slightly sunken and unusually cold, without a trace of emotion.
He looked at the blood-red color on the patch of snowy ground in front of the palace wall and arrows scattered across the ground without a flicker of emotion. His gaze moved slightly. He saw Fan Xian, alive or dead, who had been shielded behind everyone else. His brows furrowed slightly.
The four warriors of the Sword Hut stood guard in each direction during the dense rain of arrows. Using their powerful ninth-level cultivation, they wove a sword net and protected everyone else within as they sliced through countless arrows. However, there was a limit to human strength. This was not like when Great Master San Shi died to the arrows outside Jingdou. Now, there were thousands upon thousands of arrows that fell like rain on the ground. Who could avoid getting wet? Who could avoid dying?
After the rain of arrows, the four warriors of the Sword Hut were struck a number of times, but they remained standing valiantly with blood flowing down their bodies. Who knew if these disciples, who had inherited Sigu Jian's ruthless viciousness, would fall over in the next moment?
Friar He, by the side of the sword net, had already become a hedgehog and could not be more dead. Given the past glory of this Northern Qi ninth-level ace, who would have thought that he would fall so easily in front of a powerful nation?
No matter how powerful a person was, they were as weak as ants before a flourishing kingdom unless this person's power had exceeded that of a human, such as a Great Grandmaster.
After the rain of arrows stopped, a blood-covered Lang Tiao also retreated back. Earlier, he had tried to charge out with Fan Xian under his protection. In the end, he had not been able to break free of the dense rain of arrows. After the two soul-devouring curved knives killed two Ascetic Monks, he had retreated. Two bone-deep arrows stuck out of his right shoulder. Fresh blood flowed freely.
Haitang glanced at him. Lang Tiao did not turn around as he said heavily, "The Emperor has given orders for him to survive."
At this time, everyone was injured or dead. Although they were all powerful warriors who could hold their own, they were unable to form a cohesive whole from the beginning and break through bravely. Judging from the formation of the Qing court, the Qing Kingdom had not left any possibility for their survival.
…
…
The Emperor looked calmly at the bloody scene at the foot of the palace walls. After a moment of silence, he quietly said, "Continue."
Earlier, in the instant that the assassination in front of Taiji Palace ended, the Emperor finally felt a sense of release, release from the shapeless chains pressing down on his body. Thus, he had recovered his usual self-confidence and elegance as he methodically arranged for all of this.
After Dong Mountain… More accurately speaking, after the Taiping Courtyard incident 20 odd years ago, the thing the powerful Qing Emperor feared the most in this world was the youth with a piece of black cloth over his eyes and the chest that disappeared forever.
In front of Taiji Palace, the Emperor had forced Fan Xian to the extreme, but the chest and Wu Zhu had not appeared. The Qing Emperor's final caution disappeared without a trace. He finally confirmed that the chest was not with Fan Xian. At least, it was not with Fan Xian right now. Lao Wu was presumably caught within the Temple, unable to ever leave again.
The Emperor narrowed his eyes and looked at the warriors desperately struggling for their lives at the foot of the palace walls. There was little disturbance in his heart. Just as Fan Xian had thought earlier, he had been like this even on Dong Mountain, let alone when faced with these little ninth-level aces. There was no sense of pride at all in the Emperor's heart because such a small matter could not make him feel prideful. He just distantly and quietly looked at Fan Xian, whose life and death he was uncertain of, and felt a faint sense of exhaustion rising in his heart.
Following the order on the palace walls, the Qing Kingdom elites surrounding the square once again raised the longbows in their hands. The steady tips of the arrows were aimed once again at the blood-covered warriors in the snow. They did not know what powerful figures these assassins were. They only knew that as long as they sent out the arrow from their hand, death was the only option for those assassins, no matter how powerful they were.
Perhaps some generals or clever soldiers guessed at and saw Sir Fan junior's existence and their hearts trembled slightly. After all, Fan Xian's existence in the Qing Kingdom was a kind of legend. Yet, such a legend was about to die to their hands. As long as one was a Qing subject, one would probably be moved by this.
Just like Ye Zhong at the crossroads, Shi Fei behind the archers, Gong Dian on the palace walls, these three major figures of the Qing military all felt a faint sense of sorrow in their hearts. However, a ruler's orders could not be disobeyed. Military orders could not be disobeyed. All of the soldiers raised the bows in their hands and took aim.
The Emperor narrowed his eyes even further.
…
…
However, the Emperor did not realize, no one could have realized, that there was a person on the roof of Zhaixing Tower some distance from the square who was taking aim at him on the palace walls.
Zhaixing Tower was the third tallest building in Jingdou. Originally, it had been the old observatory of the astronomers. After the young lady of the Ye family entered the capital, a new observatory was built on a mountain outside Jingdou. From then on Zhaixing Tower gradually fell into disuse. Other than servants who came to clean, no one paid it any attention.
During the cold snowfall in January of the 12th year of the Qing calendar, a thinly built person lay on the roof of Zhaixing Tower with a large white fur coat covering his body which, along with the white snow on the surrounding buildings, covered the color of the green clothes he wore.
This person hid very well. Under the cover of the wind and snow, he completely blended in with the snow covering Zhaixing Tower.
In front of the expensive white fur coat, there was an icy tube-shaped object made of metal. It was the assault rifle that had killed Yan Xiaoyi explosively in the meadow.
Under the white fur coat, the person huffed out a breath of hot air to warm his frozen hands. He then put his eye back to the optical scope. He adjusted his breathing and used zhenqi to calm his nervous heartbeats. He then fixed the sight of his scope on the palace walls and onto the body of the Emperor.
The Royal Palace was very far away, but the Emperor was right in front of his eyes. He was very familiar with this feeling. He was also very used to the environment because the snow in Cang Mountain at night was even more difficult to endure than the snow in Jingdou now.
The mouth of the gun under the fur coat moved a hairsbreadth and completed its last adjustment. His finger steadily came into contact with the icy metal with a single tremor. After a momentary pause, it gently moved.
A light click became a muffled thud. It then became a startling bang of thunder. In the end, it evolved into the strange cry of a bird tearing through the air. Beautiful and terrifying sparks sprayed forth from the opening of the rifle.
- Home
- Genre
- Fantasy
- Romance
- Romantic
- Modern Romance
- CEO
- Urban
- Action
- Billionaire
- Modern Life
- Historical Romance
- Game
- Xianxia
- Sci-fi
- Adult
- Historical
- Drama
- Urban Life
- Fantasy Romance
- Comedy
- Harem
- Adventure
- Farming
- Military
- Son-In-Law
- Wuxia
- Games
- Josei
- Ecchi
- School Life
- Mystery
- Completed
- Top
- Power Ranking
- Trending Ranking
- New novel
- Latest Release
- History
- All Novel